Drex watched her for a long moment before speaking again.
"And your family?" he asked.
"You speak of returning… but to whom?"
The question caught June off guard.
She realized, with a strange heaviness, that since arriving in this world—
no one had asked her that before.
Not once.
She opened her mouth, then hesitated.
Her thoughts drifted—briefly, unwillingly—to Alex.
They hadn't spent much time talking. Most of their days had been filled with movement, survival, settling the tribe. Yet somehow, without words, she had felt… close to him. A quiet presence. A steadiness.
She shook the thought away and focused on Drex.
"My mother died," she said finally. "A few weeks ago."
Drex didn't interrupt.
"She was the only one who truly cared for me," June continued, her voice calm but distant, as if she were recounting someone else's life. "After she died… everything changed."
She stared into the fire.
"My father remarried," she said. "My stepmother didn't want me. She never did."
Her fingers tightened around the fox-fur coat.
"On her insistence, my father abandoned me," June said quietly.
"Sent me to a lonely island. An old house my great-grandparents used to visit during holidays."
Drex's eyes darkened.
"I was told it was for my 'own good'," June added bitterly. "That I needed space. Time."
She laughed softly, without humor.
"There was no one there," she said. "Just me. And a house falling apart."
She paused.
"I have a brother," she continued. "He's in the army. Probably deployed somewhere far away. I don't even know if he knows what happened to me."
She lifted her gaze.
"Everyone else?" she said. "They're strangers. Including my father."
Silence filled the tree-home.
Even the fire seemed to burn quieter.
Drex didn't speak for a long time.
Then he said, slowly, "So you weren't running toward something."
June shook her head.
"I was running away," she admitted.
Drex leaned back, exhaling through his nose.
"Humans," he muttered. "Your world discards its own and calls it civilization."
June looked at him, surprised.
"I know what it's like," he added after a pause. "To lose everyone. And still be expected to obey."
She met his gaze.
"But," Drex said quietly, "you survived. Alone. That matters."
June didn't know why, but those words eased something tight in her chest.
Outside, snow piled higher, sealing paths behind them.
And for the first time since crossing worlds, June felt something unfamiliar—
Not safety.
Not belonging.
But being seen.
Sleep came quietly to June.
She leaned against the massive trunk of the tree, the steady warmth of the fire and the muffled hush of falling snow lulling her senses. Exhaustion claimed her before she even realized it.
Drex noticed.
She looked strangely unguarded—so different from the fear she had shown earlier. As if she trusted the world to hold her for a moment.
Without waking her, he stepped closer and carefully lifted her into his arms.
She was light.
Too light, he thought—for someone who had carried so much alone.
Moving silently, Drex climbed upward through the carved passages of the tree, reaching the uppermost chamber—a space with a solid roof and walls grown thick and curved, protected from wind and snow. It was the warmest place in his home.
He spread layered beast hides across the floor, thick and clean, then gently laid June down.
She stirred slightly but didn't wake.
Drex hesitated.
Then he lay down behind her, careful not to crowd her, and pulled another fur over them both. His arm rested lightly at her waist, more shield than claim, his body blocking the cold seeping through the wood.
"Sleep," he murmured, so quietly it was meant only for the night.
June slept on.
And she dreamed.
She saw Alex—standing alone beneath a pale sky, his silver fur dulled with blood and snow. His wounds burned, but what hurt him most was not the pain in his body.
It was the emptiness beside him.
He lifted his head, searching the wind.
"June," he called, his voice raw.
She tried to reach him, but an invisible distance stretched between them. The farther she moved, the farther he seemed.
His eyes—once steady and sure—were filled with longing and quiet agony.
I didn't want to leave you, she wanted to say.
I just didn't know how to stay.
But the dream shifted.
Snow fell heavier.
Alex sank to one knee, gripping the earth as if holding on to the last piece of her he could feel.
And somewhere between worlds, two hearts—bound by fate neither had chosen—ached in the same silence.
June woke to silence.
Not the empty kind—but the kind filled with quiet life.
Before her stretched a breathtaking view: mountains dusted in white, a river glinting like silver beneath the pale sun, and a forest wrapped in frost. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, slow and unhurried, as if the world itself had paused to admire its own beauty.
For the first time since arriving in this world, June felt… refreshed.
She breathed deeply, the cold air sharp yet clean.
At the soft sound of her movement, Drex emerged from below, climbing with practiced ease. His blue gem-like eyes flicked toward her, then the sky.
"You're awake," he said. "Good. Snow has started. We must hunt—rabbits, deer, and whatever vegetables we can find. Winter doesn't wait."
June nodded readily.
"If I eat, I work."
After finishing the leftover rabbit meat, they prepared to leave.
Drex shifted smoothly into his beast form, his sleek black panther body moving like a living shadow. He motioned for June to stay close, and together they slipped into the frost-covered forest.
As they walked, June suddenly stopped.
"We'll need baskets," she said. "Big ones."
Drex tilted his head in confusion, but followed her lead. Using bamboo stems and vine-like fibers, the two worked together, weaving two large baskets sturdy enough to hold weight.
Soon after, Drex froze.
His ears twitched. His body lowered.
"Movement," he murmured.
They crept forward until June spotted it—a massive underground rabbit nest. Black-furred rabbits. Many of them.
Her eyes widened.
"Jackpot…"
Drex counted quickly.
"Thirty… maybe forty. It's breeding season—there will be babies."
Despite his strength, he hesitated.
"They'll escape underground. Too many exits."
June smiled faintly.
"Then we control the exits."
She instructed Drex to roll heavy stones and block every rabbit hole except two. Once done, she positioned the baskets over the remaining openings, reinforcing them as traps.
Then she took out something Drex had never seen before.
A lighter.
She gathered dry leaves and thick wood, lit them, and soon smoke billowed downward into the nest.
"Guard," she said. "If even one hole is open—close it fast."
The smoke crept into the burrow.
Panicked squeals followed.
The rabbits burst out, desperate for air—only to find their exits sealed. One by one, they leapt toward the open holes and fell straight into the baskets.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Drex moved swiftly, sealing full traps and replacing them with empty ones, his movements precise and controlled.
In minutes—it was over.
Dozens of rabbits trapped.
No injuries.
No chase.
Almost no effort.
Drex stared at the baskets, then at June.
This was not just a fragile human.
This was a strategist.
A mind that turned weakness into advantage.
"Clever," he said quietly. "Very clever."
June brushed ash from her hands.
"In my world, we call this planning."
Drex exhaled slowly, a low sound filled with something close to admiration.
And as snow continued to fall softly around them, the black panther realized—
The human beside him was far more dangerous than she looked.
June crouched beside the baskets, watching the rabbits thump and shuffle inside.
"We won't kill them," she said suddenly.
Drex paused.
"We'll keep them alive. Feed them. Breed them."
He turned to look at her, surprised. Rabbit meat was a favorite among beastmen, and he had expected her to choose slaughter without hesitation.
June met his gaze calmly.
"I can't eat rabbit every day. I'm a foodie—I need variety."
For a moment, Drex stared at her… then let out a quiet huff of amusement.
He loved rabbit meat. Truly loved it.
But he was already more than content with the size of their catch.
He nodded.
"Agreed."
The decision settled easily between them.
On their way back toward the tree house, Drex shifted again, lifting both heavy traps with effortless strength. Inside, thirty to forty rabbits of different sizes and colors—white, black, grey, and spotted—huddled together, alive and unharmed.
Meanwhile, June focused on something else entirely.
She fashioned a large pouch from beast hide, tying it securely across her shoulder, and began scanning the forest floor and low shrubs with sharp attention.
"There," she said, kneeling.
Vegetables.
She gathered wild lemons, firm tomatoes, potatoes, green onions, leafy greens, and even a small cluster of apples tucked beneath frost-covered branches.
Each time she found something valuable, she looked to Drex.
"Mark this place," she instructed. "We'll need to come back here often."
Without question, Drex scratched deep symbols into tree trunks and rocks, using claw marks only he could recognize—a hunter's map, etched into the forest itself.
As they walked, the panther glanced at June again.
She wasn't just thinking about today's meal.
She was thinking about tomorrow.
About supply. Sustainability. Survival.
For the first time in years, Drex felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest.
Stability.
And as snow continued to fall softly around them, the forest seemed to quietly accept June's presence—
as if it already understood that she was here not just to survive…
…but to change things.